


Jo'vikal

by SilverSamurai026



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Gen, Not a romance, References to Depression, Slow Burn, i might not finish this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-07 11:53:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17959985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverSamurai026/pseuds/SilverSamurai026
Summary: This is the humble story of Vikal - a khajiit nobody who only ever dreamed of one day becoming a scholar, but more often than not found himself in the worst of situations instead. Raised to be a thief out of necessity alongside his two siblings, Vikal really couldn't hope for anything more than his dingy little shack on the outskirts of a poor city in Elsweyr. However, when things take a turn for the worst, Vikal and his siblings make a run for Skyrim. Things don't get easier. Before he knows it, he's all alone, and not even his dreams are welcome to keep him company.Enter Brynjolf. A charming rogue with a knack for good sense and a kind heart, but in dire need of some good fortune right about now. With their meeting, it seems Lady Luck finally decides to reveal how misfortune can lead to the purest of happiness.Now if only Maven would just shut up and go away...





	Jo'vikal

**Author's Note:**

> Going to be honest, I started this with zero intent of sharing it. I wanted to write a quick story in order to knock Maven Black-Briar down a peg or two, seeing as I can't in the game, but then it somehow snow-balled into... this. This glorious, out of character, basic lore... thing. Literally, I was only trying to come up with a quick backstory for Vikal so I'd have some character to start off with when I chose to write the ACTUAL story I wanted to write, but for some reason it never works out like that for me. Somehow, the backstory became the story itself, and I just couldn't stop. Oh well. Anyway, that's why it's a bit all over the place. Especially in the beginning, where I didn't even bother to give his siblings names. (I did that later...) I was just making bullet points of the most important parts of his backstory, but before I knew it, I was writing entire chapters for each point. It definitely got away from me, not gonna lie.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you people enjoy it. I definitely enjoyed writing it, which is something I don't have the luxury of saying often. (If I didn't have fun writing it, you most definitely would not be reading it right now...) I think, for what it started as, it's pretty good. I did my best to stick to in-game lore, but I only know so much, being a casual, Skyrim-only player... I tried to be vague when it came to stuff I was unsure about. (And I researched as best as I could, but alas...) My main khajiit family doesn't speak the way the rest of the khajiit do in-game. I'll leave it up to you to decide whether that's intentional or not. (Maybe I have a proper reason or maybe I was just lazy. Who knows? [Probably lazy...]) Also, I mention a khajiit sickness that kills female khajiit only early on. This has no canon-lore relevance and is just something I came up with for plot's sake.
> 
> I do plan on leading this into the story I originally intended to write, so expect some hard-core Maven bashing in the distant future. (Maybe. If I don't get bored first...) As well as some male khajiit/Brynjolf fluff, because it's a sin that the game didn't let me marry him. :'C
> 
> That's all. Enjoy the story! (Or whatever you'd call this...)

Vikal was born in Elsweyr – a part of a litter of five – to the first-time mother, Khayala. She was unwed and without family when she had her first litter, and was horribly unprepared for the trials of parenthood. In spite of doing her very best, luck was not on her side and misfortune followed her wherever she went. Two of her five cubs died before they could even reach two years of age – one from sickness and the other from starvation. Khayala could barely afford to feed her remaining cubs, let alone herself, and so, full of desperation to keep her remaining cubs alive, she turned to a more shady pastime. That of picking pockets. She became very adept at this, and passed on the skill to her children when they were old enough to help. Though, with stern warning, she told them that thievery was only necessary now because it was the only way for them to survive. This was not a game, and if ever they had the chance to better themselves and become wealthy or skilled in more honorable ways, they should take it.

Her two eldest, unfortunately, seemed content with their thieving ways. However, she was proud to find that her current youngest, the smallest one of the three, with a pelt the shade of midnight, named Vikal, was quickly becoming an avid reader. His siblings would tease him, saying he should be worried more about stealing money for food than for books, but when alone, his mother would praise and encourage him. “Never you mind what your siblings say. One day, these books could save your life.” she would say to him kindly, before tucking him in under the ragged covers they used for blankets. And, with her approval, he held strongly to the written words he loved so dearly.

Vikal's life took a turn for the worse when his mother and sister became gravely ill. Overhearing some gossip, he and his brother learned that the virus their mother and sister had caught was one that viciously attacked a female's reproductive system. Most who did not receive treatment for it would almost assuredly die from it. Even of those who were treated, a small percentage lost their fertility entirely.

Vikal and his brother needed to have their mother and sister looked at and treated, but they didn't even have enough money for a check-up, let alone a full treatment for two patients. Desperate, the two brothers became determined to do whatever it took to help their loved ones. However, when discussing the situation with one another, they each realized that the other had a vastly different idea of how to go about this. Vikal wished to do the more honorable thing, in finding a proper, well-paying job. One that would put his many years of reading and learning to good use. Whatever he earned, he'd put towards paying for their treatment. His brother, on the other hand, believed this idea to be too slow. They needed money quickly, else they risk losing their family. He wished to sneak into the home of a very wealthy Khajiit – one who was constantly flaunting around how rich he was in comparison to the rest, and cruelly taunting those who were less well off than he – and steal as much as they could carry.

Vikal believed this to be too risky. If they were caught – if they were even seen – they'd lose everything. Especially their mother and sister. They wouldn't save anyone from behind prison bars. His brother cursed him for being a coward when it counted most, and Vikal cursed him for acting the part of a fool. They fought for hours, each knowing in their hearts that their brother was failing in the moment when they couldn't afford it.

By the end of the night, they both left in a huff, each going their separate way.

Vikal immediately began searching for apprenticeships and jobs that could use a well-read and able-bodied fellow such as himself. He was surprised to find that luck favored him, in the form of a job working at an alchemist shop. The old khajiit woman in charge was a stern old thing, who didn't favor company, but in her age she found herself less able, going partially blind and shaking too much to work properly. Worried that she might accidentally create a poison without realizing it, she hired Vikal to be her eyes and hands. Having read many books on herbs and their various properties, he was grateful to already have a head start. He even managed to surprise the old crone here and there, with his more than common, basic knowledge. She quickly became – begrudgingly – fond of the young khajiit, and began to teach him the secrets of her trade. She even went as far as to teach him things that had nothing to do with alchemy. One such thing being a very basic form of magic. Suffice it to say, Vikal became very intrigued with magic – but that is a story for later. Every day, Vikal went to work with the old khajiit, and every night he returned to his rundown home to care for his mother and sister who were still holding on, but were fading with each passing day.

His brother, for many weeks, was nowhere to be found.

Then, one day, while Vikal was helping the old khajiit with a potent invisibility potion, he was approached by a couple of guards. They told him of his brother, who had been caught attempting to rob the wealthy khajiit. He had been detained and was sentenced to remain in prison for many years because of it. They informed him that the wealthy khajiit was very cross, and would likely do everything in his power to keep the brother locked up for good. Starting with an investigation of his nearest family members and home. If they found anything stolen, the wealthy khajiit would have every reason to demand longer prison time for the brother. More so, his theft would be a disgrace upon their family name, and anyone who associated with them would be seen as being just as disgraceful. Having given him their warning, they left to search his home.

Vikal turned to the old khajiit woman. “I told him not to...” he tried. She simply shook her head and motioned for him to leave. As fond as she was of him, this was no longer a place for him to be. The beginnings of frustration found him, though he kept that feeling inside, best he could. Taking the last bit of his earnings, he left to care for his mother and sister.

The guards truly inspected everything. Their home was ransacked, and nearly everything they had come to own over the years, taken. Even things that rightfully belonged to them. It seemed, however, that the guards had enough decency to leave the sick where they lie, undisturbed, as his mother and sister, while unsettled, were untouched.

Finally, in the calm of their run-down, ransacked little home, Vikal broke down and cried to his mother and sister – both of whom were barely able to focus on him for long. Vikal cried out his anger and frustration. Wailed through his fear. Because of his brother, they had no chance. Because of his brother, Vikal no longer had a job. Because he had no job, Vikal could not ever hope to afford treatment for his mother and sister. Worse yet, because his brother had been caught, Vikal didn't even have the luxury of trying his own hand at thievery, now that he was truly desperate enough for it. The guards would be keeping too close an eye on him. He was truly without hope.

He cried all of these things into the lap of his dying mother, and he shook and cried like the child he still felt he was. But then, his mother's hand came up to pet and soothe behind his ear. She hushed him to quiet, and nuzzled his forehead comfortingly.

“Not without hope.” she told him quietly, in a voice that sounded like it belonged more to a ghost than to his dear, lovely mother. “Never without hope, when you can learn as well as you do.” He looked up from her then, tear-ridden eyes meeting her clouded ones.

“And what can I learn from this?” he asked bitterly.

She smiled a sad smile. “That the world is unfair, and difficult choices must be made because of it.”

He grimaced, knowing what she meant but not wishing to admit to it just yet. “And what choices do I have now? I don't feel I have choice in anything here...”

If possible, her smile saddened further, and she looked away from him to watch her daughter sleeping less than peacefully beside herself. She didn't answer his question directly, but she made her opinion of the matter clear enough. “Your sister is young and kind. My only daughter to survive this far. I love her with every part of my being, and if I could take this sickness from her only for it to kill me faster, I would do it in a heartbeat.” She turned to him pointedly. “You made good, honest money in that shop. For that, I am prouder than any mother ever could be of her child. You've proven that I did not fail entirely in my lifetime.” She turned again to her daughter. “Your sister, while more like your brother, shows promise as well. Given half the chance, I think she'd do very well for herself in an honest society, if only she'd learn to take that chance.”

“And what of my brother?” Vikal asked tensely. Almost angry. “What are we to do about him?” Definitely angry. His mother turned back to him, an emotionless expression showing on her beautiful face.

“Your brother took a chance to do something risky. I do not condone him for that alone. But that he was foolish enough to get caught...” she choked on her words, an emotion fighting its way to freedom, but she held it back. “He chose his path, and it failed him. It is up to you whether you try to help him out of it or not.” Vikal had nothing more to add to this. Now, with his tears thoroughly shed, and his mother thoroughly talked into exhaustion, he only wished to think.

What his mother had said was true. Vikal truly did make very good money at the shop. Enough, even, to pay for a single treatment. But that was what hurt him so. As of now, he could only help one. His mother, or his sister? He loved them both, but each for vastly different reasons. His sister was his ally. They did everything together. They struggled through hardships together and came out victorious together. They played together, they ate together, they slept together. They were the closest of companions, and with their brother, they would be complete, in every essence of the word. He couldn't imagine a world where he didn't have her by his side. (The same could be said for his brother, even if they were quite angry with each other still.)

But his mother... She was everything else to him. His confidant, his guardian, his teacher and his greatest friend. He loved her more than anything, and his loyalty to her was strong because he knew that her love for him was unconditional. She would never stop loving him. But, alas, the same applied to his dear sister who currently shared her mother's fate.

Vikal knew, in his heart of hearts, that his mother would never forgive him if he didn't save his sister. She would still love him, but that love would be tainted by the fact that he stole another love of her life, that was just as strong as her love for him. It would break her, to be angry with her beloved son because he let her beloved daughter die. Not to mention that it would be horribly selfish of him.

No. He just couldn't do that to her. So, with a heavy heart, he made an appointment for his sister. Within a week's time, she was on her healing bed, safe within the walls of a small temple. Her mother, meanwhile, lay by her son's side, in a small, rundown shack, on her old and ragged deathbed. 

* * *

Vikal knew that he had to help his brother – loathe as he was to admit it.

His sister was now three months healed – their mother, two months dead – and she was the only one capable of holding him accountable for letting their brother get caught in the first place.

It had been rough when she first came home. She wasn't allowed too near her dying mother, as the doctor claimed it would certainly be fatal for her to catch the disease a second time. Though, he did say that the likely-hood of contracting the disease from her mother was unlikely. The poor woman had been sick so long that the disease was most probably not contagious anymore. However, Vikal wished to take no chances. He stubbornly refused his sister full entry into their mother's room. If she wished to see her mother, she had to hover and remain by the door-frame.

Vikal's relationship with her dropped as well. She was livid to learn what had transpired while she lay sick in her bed. For her brothers to fight so terribly over something so stupid, and for one of them to disappear immediately after, and for Vikal to not go looking for him even once... absolutely livid, and she had only Vikal to take her anger out on.

It didn't help that she took their brother's side, believing that thieving would have been the better plan, if only their brother had, had help for it. Vikal was, after all, the stealthier of the three, with their brother being more adept at lockpicking. It was no wonder he got caught. Had Vikal been there, their brother could have opened the door for him and no one would have ever known they were there to begin with. Surely, that was what their brother had planned for when initially thinking on the idea. It was likely pure stubborn pride that forced him to prove Vikal wrong and proceed with the plan, regardless of the fact that Vikal was no longer a part of the equation.

Vikal didn't even try to remind her that his plan had saved her life, while their brother's had ended him up in prison. Given a bit more time, Vikal was certain he could have saved them, his mother and sister, both. But, alas, they would never know now. Instead, all they could currently hope for was to save their brother. 

* * *

Ndari, his sister, worked tirelessly every night, trying to come up with plans to break out their brother, Jesh. The prison wasn't a particularly strong one, being a part of a poor city, but the guards were more numerous to make up for it.

Getting in, they decided, would be relatively easy.

Ndari, as already previously mentioned, was a very skilled pickpocket. Vikal had no doubts in his mind that she would somehow happen to “find” the keys needed to get into the prison. They'd go under cover of darkness – preferably during a storm – and quickly sneak inside while no one was looking. From there, Vikal would lead the way. If they needed keys to anything, they'd have to find whoever held them. Vikal would stand lookout as his sister worked her magic. If there was a chance she was to be caught, he'd swoop in without anyone's noticing and knock the guard, or guards, unconscious. But with luck, they would have no need for that. They would highly prefer that the guards never even know that someone had broken in. All they wished for them to see was that Jesh had broken out.

This, of course, without their brother to pick locks and make interaction with the guards completely unnecessary to begin with, made things much trickier. They were, however, determined and would find a way, regardless of Jesh's absence.

Of course, all of this sounded simple enough on the surface, but as his sister pointed out very clearly from the beginning, breaking their brother out was only the first step. Once out, he'd be searched for. And if he remained in Elsweyr, he'd eventually be found. Vikal and Ndari quickly decided, without hesitation, that they would never just send him away to hide himself – No. They would go with him, wherever that meant going. All three of them would have to disappear.

That was the hard part.

For all their lives, the siblings had never left their little city. They knew only of these dusty roads and shady shops.

They knew that other cities of Elsweyr were grander, kinder... richer. However, Ndari couldn't see herself going to any of these places.

“We wouldn't fit in.” she kept telling him, as though that were a good enough excuse on its own. “We're street urchins. Pickpockets and thieves. And once we have Jesh, we'll be run-away criminals of Elsweyr.”

Vikal felt lost at the idea of leaving his home, here in this city, but the notion his sister was presenting to him made him even more unsteady.

“I believe that we must leave Elsweyr entirely. Once Jesh is out, we have to be prepared to leave immediately. We have to have a path set so that we can immediately take it.” she then lay out her map of the world for Vikal to plainly see. He loved to read, but reading maps had never been a particular strong suit of his. Ndari, on the other hand, seemed to have a natural talent for it, rivaled only by their brother's otherworldly innate sense of direction. He could find his way from one city to another in a storm, without looking at a map even once. “The question, Vikal, is where do we go? What place can we belong that will be safe for us? Where can we live freely?” Vikal's eyes came alight with a newfound idea.

“Where can we begin anew?” Ndari nodded, though more solemnly, as though resigning herself to a sad fate. Vikal, however, felt rejuvenated by the idea. A new life, far away from here where sadness and misfortune plagued his family. They could start a new, honest life.

Vikal could study – perhaps become a scholar of some sort – and his sister could marry and have children, like their mother always hoped for her. Jesh... Vikal wasn't sure how Jesh would take to a new life. He hoped that, perhaps, he'd willingly work hard at something honest. Maybe a lumbermill or stable. Even working for a farm would be better than nothing. Though, Vikal believed that his brother would be more interested in mercenary work of some sort, if he were to keep to an honest living. (If you can call that honest. Which Vikal did, in Jesh's case.)

He feared the possibility of Jesh outright refusing to even try and go clean. Feared that he'd remain a thief and uproot their family a second time. No. Vikal would accept anything other than Jesh remaining a thief.

“Well? Any ideas?” his sister's voice cut into his thoughts and brought him back to the present. He looked at the map and pondered on the question quickly.

“Skyrim.” he settled.

“Skyrim? Why there? I hear it's quite cold up there. And the nords are stubborn fools.” Vikal laughed quietly. They already planned to live with one stubborn fool – what was a few more?

“Yes, but it's far away from here – the other side of the map. What's more, there are always merchant caravans heading up there in the hopes of selling their goods. We can hitch a ride easily that way. And the land is far more diverse than Elsweyr. We're bound to find somewhere we belong.” he felt his words were sound. It wasn't as though his sister had any good ideas for other countries, after all.

“Very well. Skyrim it is.” With their destination set, they were one more step closer to beginning their plan in full. They would be free. And their lives would be all the better for it.


End file.
